Death and the Black Dog
by Isabella Raven
Summary: So make a deal with Death, Sirius Black.' What deal has Death offered Sirius? What is it she wants that she's willing to make a deal with our favorite animagus? And what does a first-year Slytherin and his cat have to do with all this?
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: None of the recognizable characters are mine... and the other two are only mine in that I thought them up. 

Author's Note: Post OotP, running with the idea Sirius really is dead. But Death has some other plans, as she's very upset at a little bugger who's cheated her once. 

**Prologue - A Deal With Death**

* * *

There was a flickering, shifting light against the stone wall across from him, familiar in its shadow-play. Just another candle in a draft, a drowsy fire on a cozy hearth. If altogether an unusual color. When had he ever seen flames the same shade of blue as the winter sky? So cool and pale, distant and unattainable, taunting him with his own frail mortality and human weakness. 

A snort escaped chapped lips, and black eyes sparkled with wry, dark humor. Indeed, his mortality had finally caught up with him, Fate shrouding herself in the dark, gaunt beauty of his cousin. How could he have missed it, seeing the curse coming? Been so incredibly stupid? 

"The oddest things happen in the heat of battle." The voice was a mere thread of sound, more sensed than heard. A figure, slight and pale, stood now at the end of the hall, a strange apparition that looked like no ghost he'd ever seen. Sirius blinked as it raised a slender, long-fingered hand, pointing to something on his right. 

He could see Remus holding Harry back, sorrow drowning those brown eyes with tears he wouldn't shed. Sirius lunged for the opening as Harry called for him, desperately trying to shout to him that he was coming, he was alive, yet found his voice mute, the arch impassable. 

"You can't go back that way." The voice was stronger now, the source a step closer, more real. He realized a moment later it was not because the person had moved, but he had. 

"How do you know?" Sirius tried to see past the shifting shadows to see the person, determine a gender, a face to accompany the voice. 

"Others have tried, and failed." The voice paused, a considering silence falling around them. "This is only a doorway, a waypoint between one life and another. There is a way to return, but not the way you came." 

He took another step towards the shifting light, deliberately, watching for a reaction. There was none. "Who are you?" 

The voice was a cool trickle of water, a clear and musical alto. "A passing guardian, an unwanted soul." A shrug of slim shoulders shrouded in white linen. "I am many things, and yet nothing at all." 

"What is your name?" Another step. Eyes the flat, bleak grey of the North Sea met his from a face carved from translucent ice. Tendrils of no-color hair curled and tumbled about her head and shoulders, white caps on a turbulent sea. 

"I have many names. What would you call me?" Drops of crystal ice, from pearlescent lips and a soulless gaze, drawing a shiver of cold fear from Sirius. 

Like the shiver, the words were not meant to happen, pulled from him without his conscious direction. "Ice, I would call you. Winter..." 

"Death?" A smile touched the pale face, and a single icy fingertip traced the line of his jaw. 

"Death," he echoed, dread rooting him to the spot. 

A whisper of a laugh - imagined? - and a slight tilt of her head as she watched him. "Than make a deal with Death, Sirius Black." Her eyes held his as he made a choice, and the world tilted crazily about him. 


	2. Nero Cane Letum

**Nero Cane Letum**

* * *

Harry slumped in his seat at the Gryffindor table, barely noticing the people around him as they waited for Professor McGonagall to bring in the new first years. He'd been in a bleak mood all summer, despite attempts by all his friends to cheer him up. He didn't want to be cheered up, not with Sirius dead. No, he just wanted to be left alone. 

He fixed dull, unseeing eyes on the front of the hall as the Sorting Ceremony began, the new first years going to one House or another without him noting where. Except for one. 

"Letum, Nero." A slim boy with thick black hair, his robes of a cut slightly finer than what even Malfoy wore for everyday, stepped up to the stool. Blue eyes the color of brooding ocean - nearly black - looked out from a pale, aristocratic face that bore an uncanny resemblance to a young Sirius Black to Harry's eyes. 

He blanched when those eyes fixed on him in the brief moment before the Sorting Hat was dropped over the boy's head. He waited with bated breath for the hat to announce the first-year's House, a frown forming on his face. 

"SLYTHERIN!" 

The pronouncement sent a trickle of ice down his spine as the new Slytherin went to join his house-mates. Harry's eyes followed his progress, and the new boy took a seat facing Gryffindor table. Their eyes locked, a subtle message, a challenge and acceptance, passing between them. Only once the feast began did their gaze break, and even then, Harry found himself watching the boy on and off as he ate. 

A cat with fur the creamy color of parchment, or perhaps the wispy almost-white of clouds - no real color at all, leapt lightly onto the table beside the plate of the new boy. Harry saw someone turn to say something, their eyes on the cat. The creature managed to look affronted, and leapt onto the shoulder of its master, turning glacial blue eyes to fix on Harry. 

He felt as though he'd been dropped into a tub of ice water, shivering under the uncanny intelligence in those eyes. After a moment, the cat looked away, and slowly the room returned to its normal temperature. Determination filled Harry, singing along his veins. There was something strange about the new Slytherin, and he was going to find out what. 

------

Ron saw a determined light begin to gleam in Harry's eyes, and exchanged a look with Hermione. They knew that look well, and after a summer where their friend had a very dead quality to him, they hadn't expected to see it again. But there it was, glowing fiercely, and it had been sparked by one of the new Slytherins. 

"Ron, did you get the name of that new student?" Harry's voice was quiet, his gaze still fixed on the Slytherin table. 

"Which one?" Ron shared another look with Hermione, who sat beside Harry. They were glad to see their friend interested in life again, though they worried about why he had taken an interest in a Slytherin first-year. 

"The one with the cat sitting at the Slytherin table. The one who looks like he might give Malfoy a run for the title of 'richest pure-blood prat'." 

Ron caught the roll of Hermione's eyes at that last, and suppressed a chuckle, sparing his shins a kick. He shrugged, having forgotten the boy's name as soon as he was sorted into Slytherin. 

"Nero Letum," supplied Hermione. "I've never heard of a family with that name." She frowned, looking over at the Slytherin table. "And I've never seen a cat quite like his before - other than the fact it is a cat." Her voice dropped to a barely audible whisper. "But what is it?" 

"Nero Letum." Harry frowned, and Ron's brows furrowed. "Weird name." 

"Weirder than Malfoy's," Ron agreed, and winced when he felt Hermione kick him under the table. 

"It's Italian and latin," Hermione sounded like she was going into lecture mode, and Ron groaned. "Nero is Italian for 'black', and Letum is latin for 'death', 'ruin', or 'annihilation'. Not a name to inspire much trust or confidence, certainly." Her lips twisted in a slight grimace. "I mean, who would really want to name their child 'black death'?" 

Ron and Harry both paled slightly, and the trio fell silent, eating their dinner. The puzzle presented by the new student remained at the back of their minds through the rest of the feast, and back to the dorms. 

------

Draco Malfoy drew an imperious air about himself like a cloak as he led the first-year Slytherins down into the dungeons, and into the starkly decorated common room. His eyes scanned the new Slytherins, fixing on one well-dressed boy as his lips curled into a sneer of sheer annoyance. The other first-years gathered about him and his strange cat as a court about their king already. The little upstart could be a danger to his control of the House, if he didn't nip it off in the bud. 

The blond boy cut through the knot of younger students like a hot knife, ignoring the ice-cold blue eyes of the cat to look down at the owner. Dark and equally cold eyes met his, and Draco frowned. He didn't like the defiant spark in those blue eyes. 

"Letum." His voice was a cool, aristocratic sneer. "I don't believe that is a very familiar name." He heard the snickers of his house-mates, the older Slytherins recognizing the veiled insult. 

"It would not be." The boy's voice was as cold as his gaze, with the same clear defiance in the quiet, clipped tone. "We do not mingle with common-born upstarts, no matter how wealthy they may be." 

Silence fell over the common room, the other students looking at Draco to see how he would respond. His eyes narrowed, his voice a lethally quiet purr when he spoke. 

"What did you call me?" 

"You heard what I said the first time." The boy shrugged, the cat shifting with his shoulders, but not even showing a hint of imbalance. "If you are unable to understand it, what would be the use of repeating it?" 

There was a collective intake of breath, and Draco carefully leashed his anger, his mother's summer lessons in control put to good use. "I do not often make the attempt to be merciful, and only a fool passes it up when it is offered." He didn't say anything more, but the promise of danger if he continued to push was clear. 

The boy raised an eyebrow a moment, then laughed. 

Draco's eyes widened at the sound, then narrowed to slits as his face went pale with barely controlled fury. Even the first years who had been gathered at Letum's back scattered at his expression. No one laughed at Draco Malfoy without regretting it. His wand dropped into his long fingers, and he raised it to strike. 

The cat moved with blinding speed, a loud hiss emerging from its throat as it launched itself at Draco. He thought he heard a cry of pain from the other boy, but was unsure, too busy dealing with a hissing, clawing bundle of pale fur. Pain raked across his face before he could get a firm grip on the cat, and he flung it across the common room with a sharp gesture. 

Anger, pain, and a great deal of horror mingled in the eyes of the new boy as the followed the cat's flight. "THANATOS!" He darted out of reach of Draco and his cronies, racing to the cat. Draco swore he saw a flickering light bathe the walls around the corner where the cat had landed, but dismissed it as hallucination. 

He reached up a hand to his face, his eyes widening when he saw blood on his fingertips. A snarl contorted his face a moment before he headed out the door to go to Madame Pomfrey. That boy and his cat would pay dearly for the damage to his face. 

------

Professor Snape looked up at a knock on his office door with a frown. "Come in." He kept his voice in his normal unwelcoming tone, hoping whoever it was would be brief. He raised a surprised eyebrow when one of the new Slytherins - Nero Letum - slipped through, cradling the pale cat that had rode his shoulder out of the main hall after supper. 

"What is it?" He had the oddest sensation when the boy met his eyes that he knew him, and the boy knew exactly who he was. It was an uncomfortable feeling, and he ruthlessly shoved it aside. Nero was his student, and in his House. Nothing else. 

"Sir," the boy spoke quietly, his tone calm despite the snapping fury in his eyes. "I wish to air a grievance." 

Snape nodded silently, waiting for the boy to continue. 

"Draco Malfoy attempted to murder my cat. She was merely defending me when he drew his wand on me, and he threw her against the wall." 

"And?" Snape kept his tone and expression bland. "What did you expect me to do about it?" 

Dark blue eyes met his, and narrowed. "I expect you to make sure Malfoy won't try to murder Thanatos again. I don't care how, but make sure he won't try." He bit his lower lip a moment, then spoke again. "Please, sir." The plea sounded surprisingly genuine to Snape's ears, and he blinked, filing that away for future reference. 

"I will talk to Mr. Malfoy." Snape held the boy's gaze. "And you will control your cat." There was a flash of contempt, quickly suppressed, but not quickly enough. A thread of pure ice ran down his spine that had nothing to do with the chill of the dungeons. He'd seen that expression before, just over two months ago, but on the face of a grown man. 

"Of course, sir." The boy paused, then left, still cradling the cat as if it were the most precious thing he owned. As soon as he was certain the boy had returned to the Slytherin common room - or at least had been given enough time to have done so - he locked the door to his office, and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. He needed a drink. 

------

Hermione patrolled the halls, her mind mulling over what had happened at dinner that evening. She frowned slightly in thought, part of her brain monitoring the halls around her as she walked. Other than his name, there was something about Nero Letum that bothered the sixth year girl, though she couldn't put her finger on just what it was. 

And then there was his cat. She'd not seen one quite that color - pale, but not white, nor grey, in fact, no real color she could name. With those pale, glacial blue eyes, it could be an albino, but she doubted it. There was something subtly wrong with that theory. And the way it moved was as if it was adjusting to a whole new style of movement, with the exception of when it was riding Nero's shoulder. Then... 

She abruptly curtailed her thoughts as she saw something out of the corner of her eye down one of the less-used corridors of the dungeon. She tightened her grip on her wand as she moved towards the flicker of shadow and light. Hermione didn't want to be caught unawares by whoever - or whatever - it was. 

Hermione peered into an empty classroom, where the light was coming from, and an involuntary gasp escaped her lips. She didn't have a chance to catch more than a glimpse of a familiar figure outlined by the shifting blue light before a soft voice spoke, her mind clouding as her memory was altered. A moment later, she was looking down at a first-year Slytherin boy cradling a pale, blue-eyed cat, unable to remember what she'd seen a moment before. 

"You're supposed to be in your dorm. What are you doing out here?" Hermione put on her best stern face and voice, waiting for a reply. 

The boy's voice was soft, embarrassed. "Thanatos ran off, and I got lost catching up to her." He paused, then continued, though his next words sounded forced, as if they were a weakness he hated to admit. "Thank you for finding me." 

Hermione smiled slightly, and nodded, guiding him back towards the Slytherin dorms. "Try not to get lost again, Nero. And your cat will be fine in the corridors without you, you know." 

"But I won't be," he muttered, so low Hermione wasn't sure she heard what she thought she heard. 

"Pardon?" 

Nero shook his head. "Nothing, Miss..." He frowned. "What is your name?" 

"Hermione Granger. I'm one of the Gryffindor prefects." She stopped outside the door to the Slytherin dorms. "Goodnight, Nero." 

"Good evening, Miss Granger." He remained by the door until she was out of earshot, and Hermione left with the feeling she'd missed something important. 


End file.
